


Will the Morning Come?

by StarfighterPilots (DreamersAndThieves)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, M/M, Minor Character Death, So much angst, bad things happen, inspired by elentori's art, klangst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-18 06:05:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8151665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamersAndThieves/pseuds/StarfighterPilots
Summary: The world is ending and the group is separated. Will they be able to make it back from the end or will they go down fighting?
Zombie Apocalypse AU based off of Elentori's zombie au comic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heya everybody. So this fic is based off of Elentori's zombie au comic and it just kind of spiraled out of control from there.  
> It's been a while since I've written a fic so please forgive me for any mistakes and weird transitions (and pls forgive the summary, the summary sucks)
> 
> You can find Elentori's beautiful art here: http://elentori-art.tumblr.com/ & here: https://twitter.com/Elentori

It was just another day at the end of the world. It was bright and sunny with only a few clouds in the sky, but on this wonderful day, waking up in a tiny house on the outskirts of another small town, it once again felt like the world really was ending. It all came down to Keith's decision to go out and get supplies. It was just like last time, when the whole group was together.

That supply run caused the first casualty in their seven person group (seven not including the stray dog that Pidge picked up and dubbed Rover). They had all decided to search the small grocery store near their safe house. Getting there was easy enough without being spotted by too many zombies, Keith downed one just outside the store’s entrance though. Once inside the dimly lit store, Allura and Coran had broken off from the group and went toward the back to check for any supplies in the employee breakrooms while the others split into smaller groups to comb up and down the aisles for any food or other supplies. But as it turns out, some zombified employees were still taking their breaks in said breakroom, though I'm sure it was way over the fifteen minute mark.

Allura opened the door and four of the walkers came stumbling out. It not for Coran, Allura wouldn't be alive today. Ever-protective of his niece, Coran threw himself between the zombies and shoved her away from the danger. Seconds too late, Lance rounded the corner with Hunk and Pidge behind him and shot each zombie through the skull. The whole team had gathered by then, all were standing save for Coran who was lying on the linoleum tiled floor with a hand pressed to his bleeding shoulder and Allura who was leaning heavily against one of the shelves with tears streaming down her face.

No one wanted to face the truth, but after a bit of convincing by Coran himself, as he was bleeding out, Shiro steps up with one of his pistols. He glances around at the remainder of his team, his gaze hesitating on Allura for a moment. They all turn their eyes away from the dying man. **Bang**.

* * *

 

_Click. Click, click, click._

“Lance!”

“Oh, shit…shit, not now!” The pistol he held steady with both hands was useless. He should’ve listened to Keith about bringing another clip full of ammo. The one thing that he needed to be consistent in times like these. This whole supply run had gone to hell before they even made it in to the store. They could have at least waited until the supplies were gathered. _Fucking walkers_.

The zombies were steadily pressing forward, backing him up against the brick wall of some stupid building. Off in the fringes of his vision, there was a red blur steadily making its way closer, but the noise kept getting louder and louder and _louder_. Dirty, bloody hands reach out for him. He should’ve taken Keith or Shiro up on lessons with a knife or sword. He should’ve at least brought the bat he usually did. All the things he could have done…

“Lance!”

But there’s that yelling again. A mouth opens up to swallow him whole, Lance cringes back against the wall, nowhere else to go now, still holding the empty gun too tightly in his hands. But the wide open mouth never takes its bite, instead blood sprays the side of Lance’s face and the side of his already dirtied by dried and coagulated blood from previous fights.

The zombies are strewn on the concrete around Lance like ragdolls when finally pries his eyes open again, wait, when did he close his eyes? Suddenly someone is standing in front of him and the pistol drops from his hands. Keith’s navy eyes are searching, searching until they lock onto his and they both finally release a sigh of relief. They’re both alive. For now.

“Lance, were you bit? Are you okay?”

“Nah, I’m fine. No bites. But that was a great save, samurai. You good?” Lance asks, struggling to pull up his usual shield of sarcasm.

Keith lets out a small, nervous laugh, hesitating just a moment before he nods. Glancing back over his shoulder for a quick moment to check and make sure that no other thing, living or dead, was moving behind them. Lance couldn’t exactly have his back in a time like this, it was like he was going into shock. And as Keith learned before with Shiro, shock was definitely not a good thing in this world. “I’m fine, Lance. You need to listen to me when I tell you to bring that bat.”

Wait, laughter? That wasn’t good. It takes a minute of the words being processed over and over in Lance’s head and the frantic searching along his arms and any other uncovered patch of skin to spot the wound. Right there, just below Keith’s right wrist was a torn and bloody bite mark from one of those things. _All because he wanted to save my ass_. “Fine. _Fine?!_ That’s not fine, Keith! I didn’t get bitten, have you seen your arm? We need to get out of here and back to the safe house. I-I think we still have stuff there to clean out the wound. So don’t worry about that. Once we get back there everything’ll be a’okay and we—“

“Lance, _shut up_.” Keith practically growls before grabbing the others arms, having checked Lance over as well as he could with all the blood covering them, whether it walker blood or not, he couldn’t tell. But Lance was right about one thing, they had to get out of there and back to the safe house they’d settled down in for the few days that they had been in the small town.

* * *

 

The walk back was not at all pleasant. Too many thoughts were running through Lance’s head and Keith was much too quiet as he gripped his machete a bit too tightly in his left hand. He gripped the opposite side of his jacket with his right with white knuckles. Lance couldn’t stop himself from looking over at Keith every few seconds as they fast walked back to their temporary shelter. As soon as Lance closed the door, Keith was turned and holding out the machete covered with blood and gore to him.

“You have to cut it off.”

Lance balks, the world narrowing down to the shorter but much more determined man in front of him. Keith’s navy eyes don’t waver. He holds the machete steadily in front of him with his left hand, his right still wrapped around himself. _Because of me_.

“Lance! Hey, do you want me to die?” Keith practically growls at him before stepping closer, reaching out to grab Lance by the arm and forcing him to grip the machete on his own. “You have to do it or the infection will spread and I’ll _die_ , Lance.”

“I can’t.” Lance whispers. His gaze drifting between Keith’s hand over his on the hilt of the machete and the bite just below the cuff of Keith’s stupid jacket. “I don’t want you to die, but I _can’t_. I should’ve gotten bit, it was my fault you were so damn reckless in the first place. I…I should’ve listened to you and brought extra ammo. I got us separated from the rest of the group. We wouldn’t be _here_ , if it wasn’t for me. God, _fuck_. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Keith.”

Keith stares at Lance as he rambles on before tightening his grip on Lance’s. “Cut my goddamn arm off because I am not dying today, Lance. I can’t do it by myself so it’s up to you, unless you really want to wake up in the middle of the night to me trying to kill you.”

Lance finally tears his gaze from the bite and their hands to look into Keith’s eyes once again. His mind finally shifting from panic to eerie calm. “I… we have to make a tourniquet. I think I saw a belt when I was looking through one of the rooms yesterday. And you still have some pain meds from when we went through the pharmacy, right?”

“Yeah, go get the belt. I’ll find the meds. Even though I don’t think they’ll help.” Lance is racing toward the bedroom they hadn’t been using even before Keith stops talking and there’s nothing else to be done about him. Keith is moving slowly, his head finally wrapping around the idea that he was going to be living with one less limb in just a few minutes time. He would have to learn to fight and do everything with his left. Once they joined back up with the rest of their team, at least there would be an even number of limbs again. Oh god, how would Shiro react? How would all of them react?

Keith eventually makes it to the medical bag they had stored at the bottom of the pile with all their things. He searches for a few moments before finding the small bottle of almost expired Vicodin that their whole group had celebrated over when they found it months ago. At least he wouldn’t feel it later.  _If he makes it to later._

Lance comes back into the living room space like a tornado. His cheeks are stained with tears and he looks paler than normal as he holds a couple fraying belts in his hand. “I found some, but they look older than I originally thought they were, I hope they’re okay. They should hold up, right? I might have to cut another hole into them so it’s tight enough.”

“As long as they close and hold it’ll be okay.” Keith replies, trying to keep his voice as calm and normal as possible as to not set Lance off even more.

Lance nods, not catching the slight nervousness to Keith’s body language, then glances around nervously before motioning to the floor. “If we’re gonna do this you have to lay down. A-and maybe you should hold onto something? Or bite something?”

While Lance rambles on, Keith takes the time to sit down on the carpeted floor of the room, reaching to grab the belt from Lance’s hands. Sitting quietly, Keith begins to tie the belt around his bicep, tightening it as much as he could. After a few moments, Lance kneels beside Keith to help with the process. Once it was as tight as they could make it, Keith’s arm was already paling with lessened blood flow. Lance moves around to kneel directly in front of Keith, looking from the wound to his face. “Should I knock you out before I start… cutting?”

“No, no, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Head trauma on top of everything else would be sort of a bad mix. Please just make it quick. Try for as few cuts or chops as possible. I don’t know what’s going to happen afterward, but just…don’t panic. Try to stay calm.” By the end, Keith’s voice is shaking. He could be dead by the end of the night, either turned because Lance wouldn’t amputate his arm or because of the shock of losing an arm.

Lance wavers in front of him before leaning forward to wrap his arms around Keith, pulling him closer in his own version of a Hunk Hug. Keith wasn’t sure who sobbed first, but then it was a flood of tears that wouldn’t stop. By the time they both began to calm down, Keith couldn’t feel his arm anymore. Lance wipes away his own tears on the sleeve of his jacket before leaning back in to press a quick kiss to Keith’s lips. “It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

“I trust you.”

Lance nods and sniffles quietly, taking in a deep breath before he reaches back to grab the machete that he had cleaned off when he went to get the belts. Keith stays stock still for a few moments before laying down on the scratchy carpeting, extending his right arm out to the side. The room the two were in would be the least interesting place to die. The ceiling was a patchwork of exposed nails, probably due to no one doing repairs since the apocalypse started. The fan was the only thing that Keith would be able to focus on unless he looked directly at Lance holding the machete as he lifted it into the air just above his shoulder. The window on the far side of the room, the complete opposite direction than looking at Lance, was letting in little to no light. _Hopefully I’ll make it to morning_.

Above Keith, Lance whispers a short apology, tears still streaming down his face even though he had just wiped them away. He puts one hand just above the tourniquet before bringing the machete down with as much force he could muster.


	2. Chapter 2

Time is such a fragile thing. Sometimes it was fast and other times it moved as slow as a snail. The time surrounding the tiny safe house that the duo had taken shelter in moved slow for both of its occupants.

Four days had passed and Lance felt like he was about to rip his hair out. He hadn't left the living room, let alone the house since the amputation of Keith's right arm just below the shoulder. And while he hadn't left the house, he knew he really should to gather supplies; they were good on water since the house's plumbing still worked. But their meager food supplies had dwindled to just about nothing (Lance’s nothing included three small granola bars and a can of sardines) during those days that felt like weeks. Lance hadn't taken his eyes off of Keith, and the black haired man hadn't really woken up since said very gory and painful amputation. There were times, however, that Keith opened his eyes and rambled on about headaches, pain, and other unintelligible things. Those times were the worst, those were the times that Lance was certain whatever all-seeing eye that presided over the universe was messing with the timeline.

The first time that Keith woke up like that, it was the one time that Lance had fallen asleep after the amputation (even though the first time he fell asleep was around twenty-four hours afterward). Lance was tired, _okay_? He was functioning on little to no sleep, left alone to his traumatic thoughts and guilt, and all with no one else to help him work through the situation except a _very_ corpse-like body of his friend with one less limb. Back to the situation at hand, though. Lance wakes up to Keith screaming bloody murder just a few minutes after he had fallen asleep. At first, he thought he was back with the rest of the group just when the apocalypse was starting. Keith always had to yell to wake him up when they were about to move or there was an inconvenient horde of zombies walking up on them when they were all asleep. But then reality crashed back into his mind and he was on the small loveseat while Keith was still yelling, but gradually getting quieter, on the sofa. Lance scrambles off the couch so quickly he lands on his hands and knees on the carpeting before crawling the rest of the way to the sofa. He kneels beside Keith and hesitates a moment before gently laying his hand on the other’s bare chest in a small attempt to calm him. He’s burning up. _Shit, that’s not good._

“Keith, hey buddy. It’s okay…” Lance mutters, _well as okay as it can be after an amateur amputation_. He frantically searches for any sign of recognition on his friends face. Keith’s navy eyes were open but incredibly cloudy. The last time that Lance checked, the wound… _stump_? was looking okay-ish, he’d never had to monitor an amputated stump for infection before. But it wasn’t bleeding anymore so much as it was oozing clear type fluids. And it was nasty, but to his knowledge, it didn’t look infected, and he knew what infected looked like thanks to his run in with a dirty nail early in the apocalypse timeline.

There was a soft groan and Keith’s head rolls to the side, his black hair sticking to his face due the fever. “Lance... hurts…”

Lance blinks in confusion before his mind finally catches up. He practically jumps to his feet and sprints to the kitchen to get a fresh cup of water and one or two pills. “Right, right. Just hang on. I’ll get you some water, just stay awake for like one more minute.”

By the time Lance made his way back, Keith looked like death once again, but his eyes were still open. Lance almost had a heart attack before he saw Keith’s chest rising and falling. He quickly goes back over to kneel beside his _hopefully_ okay friend and places the pills into his mouth before they begin the process of trying to swallow and get the water and medicine down. It works eventually after a lot of shifting and Lance spooning Keith on the sofa, which just so happened to be the best position for him to be able to swallow nicely and fall asleep right afterward, leaving Lance to be very relieved and mildly embarrassed. He stayed like that, cradling his partner in his arms, for hours until he fell asleep himself.

Time was a weird thing after that first wake up. Most of the time it was slow, but at other times it was hell once again.

* * *

 

When Keith woke up, the whole world was dark, but he could hear the soft tapping of rain against the glass windowpanes. Windows…wait, weren’t he and Lance outside the last he remembered. Keith was sure of it. But this wasn’t outside, and he was most definitely lying on someone’s couch. There was noise in the next room and Keith was already beginning to sit up, his body felt oddly weighted as he began to push himself into a sitting position. His muscles ached and strained from disuse. Leaning to the right to put his hand down so that he could stand from the sofa, reality crashed back down upon him. Keith almost fell back onto his side on the couch, he _had no right arm._ It was gone from just below his shoulder. It _felt_ like it was there, but _I guess that's what veterans mean when they say phantom limb_. His breaths started to come more heavily, the world was spinning and in just another few moments, Lance is in front of him with both his hands on Keith’s shoulders, shaking him gently.

“Hey, hey buddy, Keith? Keith. Come on. Breathe, c’mon, follow me.” Lance says so quickly Keith barely has time to comprehend before he’s trying to copy Lance’s breathing pattern. Keith’s heart was still not even close to cooperating, it was beating out of control in what felt like his throat. There was no way to get rid of the panic that had already risen to an all-time high. His vision was clouding and he could barely make out the fuzzy figure of Lance in front of him before he begins to fall forward.

* * *

**Two Days Later…**

“Keith, you gotta wake up. Keith.” Lance murmurs with a hint of worry as he gently shakes his partners arm. There was a group of zombies at the end of the small street the house was on and wandering closer. But the most worrying part of the situation was that there was the sound of a car engine and a motorcycle close-by. It wasn’t very common that they ran into other groups, but every now and then it would happen. It would either end in conflict or a small exchange of information before they all parted ways.

The only problem was that Allura and Shiro almost always handled the situations, Lance had never done or even witnessed it.

Lance was still shaking his semi-conscious friend (which _on second thought isn’t the best thing to do_ ) when he starts hearing shouting from down the street. It’s not like he left much of a trail leading back from the store they got attacked at, except maybe the little droplets of blood every few steps, okay so maybe there was a trail. Maybe they were friendly?

“Lance…stop. I still feel like shit. It’s not like I can get up and run if that’s your plan.” Keith mumbles, his voice heavy and gritty from exhaustion and all the screaming that he’d done. Lance turns his gaze back to his partner and sighs quietly. Keith was right, he couldn’t get up and run and Lance probably couldn’t get too far just carrying him, especially if they had to avoid people and the zombies. “Stop freaking the fuck out, grab your gun and that stupid bat. Then check out the window to see how many people you’re dealing with.”

“Yeah, yeah. Stay down, okay?” Lance mutters and presses a gentle kiss to Keith’s temple before grabbing his handgun off the table beside the couch. He creeps from the sofa to one of the windows that faced the street before pulling back the curtains just a smidge to take in the group outside. The first things he saw were the car and the motorcycle. The rider on the motorcycle didn’t look too distinguishable since there was a helmet in the way—ya know, safety in the zombie apocalypse, obey those traffic laws even though the cops aren’t around to enforce them anymore. But hanging out of the car were two people, one on the passenger side and another sticking their head out the top which could be assumed to be a popped out overhead window, a skylight? Or were those just for houses?

Lance narrows his eyes, frowning deeply. That one guy with his head out the passenger side window looked a lot like… “Holy shit. Keith, god does exist. We’re saved, oh god, they found us.”

Meanwhile Keith was struggling with his body just to get sitting up once again. That almost permanent scowl etched into his features was even more pronounced now that he was having to strain. “What the hell are you talking about, Lance? Elaborate, please.”

“It’s Hunk and Pidge and Allura and Shiro.” Lance gets out all in one breath before turning back to Keith with a huge smile plastered on his face. Said smile falters for just a moment before he rushes back to his friend who looked horrified, pulling the blanket that they’d been using for the past couple of days back up around Keith’s shoulders. Lance’s blue eyes hardened for a moment as he looked his partner over. “You stay here while I go get them, okay? I’ll uh, explain things. But now we’ll have Pidge and Shiro and they can definitely help more than I ever could.”

Keith nods as Lance turns to run shouting out the front door at the rest of their group, his body felt numb, it was completely unlike the numb feeling that the medicine gave him. It was more like the blood in his veins had turned to ice. From what Lance told him, he had only been lucid for about a day and a half now. The pain hadn’t exactly lessened, he had only gotten used to it. Now he had to get used to the people he cared about most doting and taking pity on him. Keith brings his left hand up to adjust the blanket around his shoulders, securely pulling it over what was left of his right arm, which wasn’t much at all.

~

“Guys! Oh my god, guys! I have never been happier to see anyone in my life!” Lance screeches as he sprints out into the street toward his groups’, probably newly acquired, vehicles.

The first reaction he gets is Shiro pulling a gun on him and aiming straight at his head. Quickly after that, though, is Hunk screeching his name back at him. Pidge and Hunk barrel out of the car and Lance is quickly enveloped in one of the best hugs he’s ever gotten in his life.

“Dude, where’ve you been?! We’ve been looking all over for you!” Hunk says while still crushing Lance in one of his hugs.

“And Keith. Where is he? Please don’t tell us that you lost him.” Pidge mumbles, they pull back from the hug and jab Lance in the side before glaring up at him. “You didn’t _lose_ Keith, _did you_?”

“NO. I did not lose Keith.” Lance snaps at Pidge, off to the side he hears a relieved sigh from both Shiro and Allura. “But, um, there’s some news about him. And it’s not good. We sort of got attacked about a week ago now? And I was a moron, I didn’t listen—“

“ _That’s_ a surprise.” Pidge cuts in. Lance sends his most serious death glare their way before continuing.

“So I didn’t listen and Keith got bit.” Lance holds his hands up and glances around quickly at the rest of their group whose eyes were widening in horror. Allura covers her mouth with her hands and tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes, next to her, Shiro looks utterly terrified. He stops for a moment then shakes his head rapidly. “No, no he’s not dead. Guys, Keith is not dead and he is not a zombie. He got bit on his wrist basically. I… he had me cut off—amputate his arm.”

The whole group is eerily quiet for a very long few minutes. Lance begins to open his mouth just as the noise of a door creaking open catches his attention. He, along with the rest of the group, whips around to face in the direction of the noise to see Keith standing in the doorway of the house. Keith looked very pale and it was probably a miracle that he was standing and made it to the front door even though it was probably just about ten steps. In an instant, everyone is sprinting to their injured friend.

Shiro is the first there and has his arm around Keith’s waist to keep him upright. “Keith, you shouldn’t be up. I’m sure Lance has told you that much.”

“Thanks for the advice, dad. I can’t even get up to see my friends?” Keith mutters, flashing a weak smile at the rest of his friends, though it lingers a little longer on Lance. Soon enough, though, Shiro is practically carrying Keith back to the couch to lay him down so that the whole group could collectively examine the wound. Keith turns his head away and covers his face with his left arm once the bandages are pulled off, he hadn’t seen the gruesome mess since it was created and he didn’t want to see it now. Keith could practically feel the tension in the air, Shiro was beside him holding his breath as he looked from his own prosthetic arm to the wound that his friend had. Allura was listing off medical supplies that they had to Pidge. Hunk was trying to reassure him while also asking what kinds of food he wanted. Apparently they had hit a huge jackpot while searching for him and Lance and got enough ingredients for a bunch of good recipes.

Everyone was too close and panicked for Keith. Lance, though, managed to get everyone to back off at least a little bit. He shoved Hunk into the kitchen while Pidge and Allura moved the vehicles and Shiro went to secure the area.

The two of them took up their regular positions once again. Lance sitting at the edge of the sofa with Keith’s head in his lap as he laid back. Keith was exhausted from getting up and the constant attention that he’d only been getting for the thirty minutes that they’d been reunited with the rest of their group, but at least Lance was easing some of the tension. Keith’s eyes begin to close and Lance’s voice becomes a soft murmur in the background.

“It’ll be okay. We’re safe now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> small headcanon time: in my mind, Keith is ambidextrous, he uses his left hand mostly just to write and his right to do most other things (ex: fighting, sword/machete wielding). so getting used to only using his left hand won't be too difficult.. well except for the psychological part, 'cause that's gonna be hard
> 
> but thank you for reading! the whole group's back together now! hope everyone liked the update (though I'm not sure when I'll be able to again, there will be another chapter for sure) :D


End file.
